Darker Side of Self
by Zaedah
Summary: My infiltration is a work of mastery. I doubt you will find merit in the talent.


_In response to last night's episode. Dedicated to Killmotion..._

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**Darker Side of Self**

You've been watching me through the lens of personal history as I continue to pick a narrow, cautious path along the edge of truth. I own a sampling of knowledge, stories the thief wearing your father's skin delights to tell. You called her sweetheart the day you met and the play began. But you came to care for the one who blackmailed you with her empty hand, waited through her period of grief for a traitor, waited for a moment that we will not allow to arrive.

It seems you'd still be trapped in an aimless hover had I not moved this tragedy forward. I have a mission and you are my task, which grows steadily more pleasing with the passing weeks. You believe me to be the incarnation of every fantasy you've had of her. But I'm altering the content of those fantasies, shading what is real with what you crave and weaving thick strands to bind her memory. You will only remember me when I'm through.

The things I've learned of the other have only proven my superior's assessment of this breed. The ones in this place are the darker sides of ourselves, reveling in all that decency seeks to repress. For this mission I borrow their deceptions but the whole of their purpose is deficient and doomed. But not you. You will never be one of them.

Which is why you'll destroy them.

She was part of the betrayal that made you run, drove you across dimensions. They hurt you and yet you've reintegrated yourself so easily among them. My trained eye appreciates your skill, but my own infiltration is a finer work of mastery. I doubt you will find merit in the talent. I too will hurt you in the end, but you are far too important to spare from harm. Still, you have shown a stunning capacity for forgiveness and perhaps you will come to understand our reasons. After all, you so willingly pardoned her the lie of omission.

But she'll never know.

The other may yet live but her existence is over. It's the least of her penance for trying to rip you from where you belong.

I can tell you've wanted this so very badly because you don't question the changes in the familiar. That I misunderstand their recollections and banter, that my fingers fumble over technology the other used comfortably, that I've taken to kissing you with ownership whenever progress stalls, that I've taken you into my bed without guilt. I suspect her hands would hesitate but mine travel with certainty.

She wouldn't be so bold but my body will make an us from you and me. The notion of us will flavor your mouth when it speaks the name I curse sharing with her. Until now, I've never hated the face you touch too intimately for me to forgive who you see.

I left another behind for this. For you.

Merely a body, in truth. An ornament to stave off loneliness. He was the first who hadn't held my unusual hours against me. But his mind wasn't special, his life not significant and his lips lacked the warmth now trailing down, down. Yes, go there and find what waits for you.

I've stopped considering her _your Olivia_ because she was never yours, which only aids my cause. You wanted and now receive, cementing my place. I will give you the incentive to bring you across again, make you burn and then teach you why those tugging at you aren't worthy of you. The prodigal son will be returned once more and our dimension will soon stand alone. You will subdue the fringe events and perhaps then…

And when the name is breathed into the air, it's thick and tinted with something close to disbelief. She wouldn't give you this, would she? But for all the sound wants, it's not me that you call. The hands that reach for her skin for the first time, catalogue the texture here, the silk there, excite me even as I know I'm next in line to ruin you. There will never be a first time with her but knowing you won't be able to make comparisons delights me. In taking her place, in claiming you, I've stolen her from this world. It is not bereft without her.

But perhaps she's infected me.

Because the part of me not focused on the job, the side dipping into this dimension's ample darkness, wants you to know me. To know what I've been, seen and done that separates me from her. To call me by that name and mean the one who lives inside this tempting skin. I've brought you to the edge and you've thrown me over, but still you don't recognize me. You see, feel and taste only her. But this body beneath you, the one you seek to possess, is mine.

And for now, you're mine too.


End file.
